


The Rory Gilmore Show

by BoxOfHammers



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-07-18 02:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16109198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoxOfHammers/pseuds/BoxOfHammers
Summary: Rory grows up to be more Maddow than Amanpour and Paris is one of her expert guests.Everyone's older.Also because Rory covers news and Paris is working at the UN there may arise some topics that might bother some people. I'll try to also be aware and warn you about that.My first post here.I lost control of the tense in this in places.17 Dec 2018: I've fixed it now I think.If you like this you need to readBoston Marriageby Jae.





	1. Rescue

“That’s it for us this evening,” Rory finished up, turning back to the camera with a warm smile. “A lot going on we all should pay close attention to. Thanks for your company. The Rory Gilmore Show will be back Monday with a panel of experts to help us all understand what the H E double hockey sticks is going on. Now it’s time for The Hour with Candice Moore standing in for James. Candice?”

“Thanks Rory!” she heard her chipper colleague chime back from the other studio. “So it’s not my imagination? The world is getting crazier?”

“No doubt in my mind Candy. We, as a nation, are in quite the pickle.”

“OK,” Candy laughed. “Great show. Thank you, my friend!” Onscreen Rory smiled and waved as she took her earpiece out.

“Clear!” called the floor manager. “Good work everybody!”

“I’ll say!” replied an enthusiastic voice from the darkest corner.

“Mom!” the whole crew shouted, surprised and delighted right along with Rory.

Lorelai grinned at them all. “With a greeting like that I feel like I should have baked you something!”

Rory shuddered and most of the crew recoiled a little. The genetic incapacity for cooking in the Gilmore line was legendary.

“What brings you to Sin City mother o’ mine?” Rory called, needing to be detached from all her comms gear before she could approach her mother.

“Sin of course,” her mother called back.

“Which one?” Rory both wanted and did not want to know.

“One, kid?” Her mother’s eyebrow raised wickedly.

“Whoo boy!” Rory rolled her eyes. “So that’s how it’s going to be?”

“As it has been, so it shall be,” Lorelai nodded gravely. “And Luke thought you looked tired and might need a ride home?”

“Aw Luke,” Rory smiled fondly, sighing. “He is correct.”

“Annoyingly, he often is.” Finally, Rory was close enough for her mother to inspect. Frown lines creased her forehead. She hugged her daughter. “You need to sleep kid,” she whispered.

“That’s what makeup keep telling me! Walk with me and I’ll get into some Rory clothes.”

Arm in arm they set off down the hall. Lorelai’s eyes misted with pride as they often did at seeing her kid’s serious but warm expression beaming at her from the promotional posters lining the hall.

“So we’re in a ‘pickle’?” Lorelai asked with a smile in her voice as Rory removed her makeup.

“That’s the official word,” Rory nodded.

“Huh. Not in a gherkin? Cucumber?”

“Definitely a pickle.”

“If you say so kid.”

“Are you OK? You’re calling me kid a lot? Is Gramma OK? Luke? Miss Patty? Suki?..”

“We’re all fine kid. I’m kinda worried about you though. And not just cuz Lukstradamus is.”

“Are we calling him that now?”

“No,” Luke said from the doorway. “We are not.”

Both Gilmore women turned and looked at him adoringly. Luke returned Rory’s hug and handed her the Thermos flask hanging from his right index finger.  
Her grin broadened. Unstopping the flask she sighed, breathing in the smell.

“Luke coffee,” she whispered, pouring some out into the mug on her desk. She took a sip. “Oooh! Grown up Luke coffee.”

He shrugged, grinning back at her.

The Gilmore girls caught up while Luke drove them out of the city and got them headed north.

“So you’re having the hurricane stuff on the show Monday?” Lorelai finally asked making Luke sigh.

“Yep.”

“That usually means Paris?” Lorelai pressed. “God that kid and her multiple degrees!” she added in a murmur.

“Usually.”

“So?”

“Let her rest, Lorelai,” Luke suggested in hope when Rory didn’t immediately respond.

“Rory?”

“I love that you still try, Luke,” Rory said, leaning forward to pat the most useful man she’d ever known on the shoulder. He took his eyes from the road for a moment to meet hers.

“Hey! No silent eye-contact ganging up!” Lorelai interjected using two fingers to point to her own eyes then at them. “Have you invited Paris to explain your pickles to you or not?”

“Pickles?” Luke asked knowing no one was listening.

Rory made a shrugging motion her mother couldn't see.

“Did you just shrug?” Lorelai asked.

“Maybe,” Rory said shrugging again. “This pickle is right in Paris’ wheelhouse.”  
Luke, jarred by this mixed metaphor, opened his mouth but on second thought remained silent.

“Huh. Pickle in her wheelhouse. Is that dirty?” Lorelai waited but when no one responded she continued. “I know she’s good at the law slash medicine honey. That kid and her degrees!" she mused distractedly, then said firmly, "I’m not so sure she’s very good at the you.”

“Mom!” Rory protested.

“Rory!” Lorelai responded in the same tone with stronger dash of whine.

“OK,” Rory caved, taking a deep breath. “She will be on the show. I will be fine. She’s not my kryptonite she’s my friend….”

“Your friend who you have a crush on.”

“I’m 34. I have a cable news show that’s called THE my actual name show. I think I can talk with Paris Freaking Geller for fifteen minutes without imploding.” She smiled. “I’ll be asking her to explain things to me. She’ll be in her element.”

“I’ve asked her to come to the house,” Lorelai said calmly.

Luke warned “Lorelai!” as Rory cried “Mom!”.

“Oh, don’t you two take that tone with me. You need to see her Rory. Before she sits on that damn guest stool of yours with that ass that won’t quit.”

Luke’s neck twisted at a strange angle and a strangled noise came out of him.  
Rory was actually struck silent by her mother’s invocation of Paris’ ass.

“You’re thinking about her ass now aren’t you kid? You know why? Because you’re a goner for Geller. I was like that with Luke’s ass. Ask Suki.”

“Please,” Luke tried. “Leave my … no. Can we leave everybody’s ass out of this?”

“They are both excellent asses,” Rory conceded sleepily.

Luke groaned. Lorelai looked smug. It was dark but anyone who’d met her would know it was there.

Rory woke the next day in her childhood bedroom that Luke had made bigger and Rory had made more adult. One of Lane’s boys had her old bed. Luke built a fridge into her old chest of drawers, her memorabilia mostly consigned to the attic. She made it back less often these days but often enough for it to be her room. She smelled coffee and pancakes and headed for the kitchen after a quick pit stop.

"Hey!” Luke greeted her, pausing in his cooking to pour her coffee and kiss her head.

“Morning,” she grumbled back.

They co-existed in companionable silence until Rory was half way through her stack.

“Did Mom say Paris was coming. Here? Or was that a dream?”

“Not a dream.”

“What am I going to do?” Rory whined resting her head on the table.

“Eat,” Luke commanded. “It’ll be fine.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why will it be fine?”

“Well. Think about it. Why wouldn’t it be? Your Mom and I love you. Paris loves you. In her own weird way she always has. You love all of us. It’ll be fine.”

“Has your sister been spending a lot of time with you?”

“Well sure. At the diner. She’s there now … wait. Are you suggesting the hippies are rubbing off on me?”

“Just calling em like I see em.”

“But do you know when to fold em? Huh? Do ya punk?” her mother asked gruffly as she wandered - still only half-conscious - into the kitchen.

“Were you dreaming in Kenny Rogers?” Rory wanted to know.

“Were you playing poker at breakfast?”

“Kind of emotional poker,” Luke smiled, kissing her enthusiastically.

“Luke was telling me love conquers all,” Rory explained.

“You old softy,” Lorelai cooed, wrapping herself around the cook.

“Hey! Hot fat here!” he warned.

Lying around eating and catching up had become such a habit that they quickly moved on to local gossip. None of them were dressed yet when the doorbell rang. Luke padded out on bare feet to see who it was.

“You guys need to specify a dress code on your invitations,” they heard Paris quip when Luke opened the door. “Should I go put on my jammies?” she asked them as she moved into the living room dragging her carry-on sized suitcase.

“You do have the ass to pull off sweat pants,” Lorelai greeted her then pulled her in for a hug, “but no need to stoop to our level. Put your stuff in Rory’s room and freshen up. You’re just in time for second breakfast.”

“You got it. Mmm. This house always smells so good. Rory,” she greeted kissing her on the cheek then continuing on her way out of the room.

“She has a suitcase,” Rory hissed at her mother between her teeth.

“Because she’s here for the weekend,” Lorelai confirmed nodding.

“What?” Rory asked as calmly as she could manage.

“What?” her mother responded in perfect pitch Gilmore.

“I thought she was coming for a visit?” Rory expanded.

“She is. For the weekend. She’ll drive you back to the city Monday.”

“What?”

“What?”

“You ….! Luke?”

“Out of my control,” Luke responded raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Lorelai please don’t do anything …. Nope I’ll leave it there.”

Lorelai headed for the stairs.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“I think she means H E double hockey sticks,” Paris supplied with high good humour smiling at her old friend’s mother.

“Oh no. That’s just public Rory. Private Rory is a trash mouth,” Lorelai responded in kind. “You’ll be amazed Paris. She said ‘darn’ the other day right to her grandmother.”

Paris clutched her metaphorical pearls sucking in a shocked breath.

“Right?” Lorelai nodded. “Next it’ll be F bombs in the town meeting. I’m going to put some clothes on. Talk amongst yourselves.” And with that she turned and nimbly ascended the stairs.

“She’s quick for her age,” Paris commented.

“She’s annoying for her age.,” Rory responded before realising that didn't make sense.

“I’m guessing neither of us wants to talk about why I’m here?” When Rory looked at her pleadingly she continued, “So this hurricane mess? That’s what we’re on next Monday?”

“Yes. The amended and rising death toll. I need you to explain how those numbers change, what sort of things were being discounted and now aren’t. Is there a legal angle. You know the drill.”

“I do know the drill. OK. That’s that taken care of. How are you Gilmore? Your mother says Luke’s worried about you? And I’m guessing that means she is? You look tired. Are you not sleeping?”

“Easy Doc. I’m pretty diligent with my check-ups. I’m fine. Just stuff, you know? Let’s go eat something and then I’ll try to convince you again what a great place Stars Hollow is.”

“Is it still creepily full of white people except for the mechanic who is also the only gay in the village?”

“Ha! No. We’ve had some population movement.”

“Do tell!” Paris teased as they headed for the kitchen.

Although Rory had interacted with this grown up iteration of Paris quite a bit the inhabitants of Stars Hollow had not. Including her mother and Luke. Well, at least as far as she knew. But her mother and Paris seemed suspiciously well-informed and simpatico on a number of matters.

“It’s pretty easy to google Paris Geller,” her mother said shrugging off her interrogation. “And, kiddo, your life isn’t a secret to the Googles either you know.”

“There’s something going on,” Rory said, narrowing her eyes.

“Ooh is that the interview technique you used on Conway? Because I gotta say not surprised she didn’t crack!”

“Hey! I got her a couple good ones!”

“Gilmore! You coming or not?” Paris yelled from the porch sounding like her younger self.

Rory left her mother’s arched brow and headed out to join Paris for their walk.

As they strolled around town Paris waited patiently as everyone they met greeted Rory in varying degrees of adoration. Finally with one last silent hug from Maury and a “see ya before ya go honey!” from Babette Rory turned to her apologetically.

“Don’t apologise,” Paris said, smiling softly as she took Rory’s hand and headed for the nearest bench. “They love you. It’s really quite beautiful. Sit.”

“You’re really …,” Rory searched for the word and finally settled on “… still.”

“I’m still?”

“Yes. When we were younger you used to vibrate. With rage or excitement or just day to day being you I guess sometimes. Now you’re still.”

“People don’t want their doctor to vibrate like a tuning fork Gilmore.”

“I guess not.” Rory looked away and then tracked back to Paris’ eyes and held steady there. “Mom wanted me to see you before the show Monday. I’m not sure what she told you?”

“She said you were tired and it would do you good to see me. Like not business. Like a friend. Or. Like someone who cares for you not Public Rory.”

“And just like that you came?”

“Your mother made a very compelling argument.”

“That sounds like her all right.”

“Rory? What did you mean about seeing me before Monday?”

“What? Oh! Uh … OK. Look. Here’s the thing … Uh. Hah! OK. The thing is … Paris. OK. So we’ve seen more of each other lately. At the show. Right? And I’ve always liked you Paris.” Paris snorted. “OK. Well after a disastrous beginning we were close right? Eventually? At Chilton kind of and at college. Have you heard from … no, digressing Rory. Close. OK. So anyway now I … uh …”

“Gilmore. Do you like me like me?”

“Oh, thank god. Yes.”

“OK.”

“OK? What does that mean? In this context,” she added waving in the short space between them.

Paris grinned radiantly then kissed Rory on the lips.

“Let’s give it a shot, Tiger. I’ve just taken an advisory position at the UN so we’ll be living in the same city. Let’s go on some dates, see what happens.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

It was Rory’s turn to grin.

“Your mother’s going to be unbearably smug isn’t she?”

“There is no doubting that,” Rory sighed. “Should we go let her get started?”

Paris stood and held out her hand. Rory took it and that’s how they entered the house. Lorelai looked up from her book and saw their joined hands. She stood, arms up in victory and commenced a parade into the kitchen where Luke was preparing lunch and the evening meal.

“I AM THE CHAMPION OF MOTHERS!” she bellowed causing him to burn himself.

“What the hell Lorelai!?!”

“BEHOLD! THEY ARE HOLDING HANDS!”

Luke looked at Paris and Rory. They raised their hands for his perusal. He gave them the thumbs up and rolled his eyes at Lorelai as she began proclaiming once more.

“Run girls!” he whispered desperately. “Save yourselves!”

“And miss whatever you’re making here?” Paris asked as if he was deranged. “It smells fantastic!”

“Wow! Way to butter up the in-laws,” Rory murmured admiringly in her ear.

“Can you not smell that food? We aren’t going anywhere.”

“OK. Which of those smells is lunch, Luke?” Rory asked, letting go of Paris’s hand and heading towards the stove.


	2. Grown-up Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rory and Paris try to get together but work keeps getting in the way.  
> Warnings: Rory covers a mass shooting news story in Vegas - you can skip the section titled Wednesday to avoid that.

**Monday Monday**

“…That’s all from me this Monday and now it’s time for The Rory Gilmore Show. Rory?”

Rory smiled straight down the camera with gravitas but also with genuine warmth. “Welcome back Tom. Great work on the news from the border. Heartbreaking.”

“Thank you. It’s hard to understand what we’re becoming as a nation.”

“Indeed. Just before you go - Amy asked me to remind you she’s not a fan of the vacation beard.” Tom shook his head, blushing, and then his image disappeared from the left of her monitor. “All right. Good evening everybody. Happy Monday. Did you have a good weekend? All rested? Good. Me too. Thanks Mom and Luke.” She smiled and waved a little. “We’re going to need it because the news today has already been crazy. We have a lot to get through. You ready? OK…”

Out of Rory’s line of sight Paris stood quietly smiling thinking how perfectly Rory this show was. In the first fifteen minutes she greeted her audience like friends, made them comfortable and then went to town on the chosen news topic of the day. Usually starting with placing it in an historical context, she led her audience out of the past toward a deeper understanding of what was going on around them. Paris heard her name and tuned back in.

“… Geller will be here to walk us through what it all means after this. Stay with us,” Rory closed out with her usual throw to commercial. Once the all clear sounded she turned unerringly to pick Paris out in the shadows. “You’re up Geller!” she bellowed, indicating the stool across the side section of her desk. She watched as Paris walked out into the pool of stark light she was flooded with.

As they oftentimes did, her mother’s words from Friday night’s drive back to Stars Hollow invaded her mind space, parading across her awareness like a news crawl: “You need to see her Rory. Before she sits on that damn guest stool of yours with that ass that won’t quit.”

She blinked feeling a little stunned.

Paris was already seated. Rory looked into her eyes seeing all the brand-new things they had now. “You cannot look at me like that here!” she whispered, leaning over her desk.

Paris winked at her. Paris was a great winker.

“Thirty seconds,” Pamela whispered in her ear. “Are you OK? You look … stunned?”

Rory sent a thumbs up towards the booth. 

“Five, four, three, two, one, pyjamas, go,” Pamela counted her in.

On screen Rory looked to camera, summoning Professional Rory to the fore. Private Rory was useless in a corner somewhere. “Welcome back. Now. I know I laid it all on you there in the A Block. What’s new, right? As promised here to help us unravel what in the world is going on doctor, lawyer, and now UN advocate Paris Geller. Thanks for being here,” she said turning to her left to face Paris.

“Great to be with you, Rory,” Paris smiled winningly.

“Congratulations on your UN appointment. How’s that going so far?”

“Well it’s only my first day so there’s still a couple of problems I haven’t finished ironing out,” Paris responded jovially causing someone on the floor to laugh.

Rory let rip a blinding grin right at her guest. “Well I’m pretty sure once you have a moment whatever it is will be hopeless before you!”

“Probably all sorted by Wednesday,” Paris confirmed deadpan before her face lit up to reflect Rory’s fond look.

Before Pamela could whisper “What’s happening now?” in Rory’s ear with a strangled anxiety she began the segment.

For the next six minutes they were informative and charming. As the end of their time approached Rory wrapped it up, reaching across the desk to shake Paris’ hand in what viewers thought of as one of her TV moves but was actually pure Emily Gilmore. “Paris Geller, thanks so much for coming in to help us out. Appreciate it,” Rory said.

“You bet,” Paris said.

The all clear came. Unusually, everything was very still. Rory looked up.

“Uh,” Pamela said in her ear. “We need to get Dr Geller out of there during this break?”

Rory realised she was still holding Paris’ hand. Their eyes met across the desk. “Huh!” Rory huffed looking down at their hands as she reluctantly let go.

Paris opened her mouth then closed it in a rare moment of restraint. “See you round Gilmore,” she murmured.

“Definitely,” Rory said, somehow managing to make that word sound underlined.

Then Shaula was there indicating to Paris that she needed to move off the set. Paris nodded and smiled at Rory’s assistant, slipping off the stool and following her back into the shadows.

Rory watched her go. Shaula turned back and caught her eye. Shaula’s eyebrows disappeared into her hair when she saw Rory’s gaze. Her eyes went big. Rory tore herself back into work mode. Checking her notes, she frowned.

“We’re back in thirty with the Senator on the phone,” Pamela said firmly. “Are you with us?” she followed up in a softer tone. Rory nodded. “There’s something big breaking on The Hill. I’ll have it for you by the time you’re done with the Senator.” Rory nodded again. Game face on and “Five four three two one Mississippi Go,” Pamela called double-quick time.

Rory finally got the host of the next show to let her go – honestly, did he plan to burn three minutes of air time talking to her? – and reached for her earpiece. She didn’t like it. It had taken her months to get used to talking while someone relayed information to her. Twice recently on air she’d had to ask Randy to stop talking while she was interviewing VIP guests. He still hadn’t earned his comms privileges back from Pamela.

She passed Shaula in the hall on the way to her dressing room. Shaula rolled her eyes.

“Was it that obvious?” Rory asked quietly.

Shaula shook her head. “It’ll be fine,” she assured her boss in her calming Virginian cadence. “There’s some tweets but …” she finished with a shrug.

“Ugh!” Rory groaned, irritated.

“Your phone’s blowing up in there,” Shaula said jerking her head towards the dressing room. “Mostly texts of strings of heart eyes from your Mom.” Rory groaned again. “You know we’ll protect you.”

“I can’t believe all this from a handshake,” Rory whined.

“That’s what Dr Geller said. She thinks we’re over-reacting.”

Rory stopped. “You talked about this with Paris? That’s pretty invasive.”

Shaula threw up her hands. “Do I look crazy? She brought it up.” Rory’s eyebrows raised. “It was a long hand hold Boss. You might want to check the footage. Also your face. Pretty easy to read.”

“Ugh my face!” Rory exclaimed sounding over-dramatic even to herself.

“I like your face,” Paris opined from close behind her.

Rory felt herself relax. “You do?”

“I do,” Paris confirmed.

“Yuh,” Shaula sighed. “You might wanna tone that down in public unless you want to go full publicity.”

“Tone what down?” Rory asked softly not shifting her gaze from Paris who seemed to be moving towards her like metal to a magnet.

Shaula shifted uncomfortably. “This thing right here,” she said indicating the closing space between the two of them. “You cannot be all sex eyes at each other in random hallways. You aren’t invisible you know.”

But Rory was a goner. Just when things might have gotten too much PD to the A Pamela’s voice bellowed down the hall. “ **Lorelai**   **Leigh Gilmore!** ”

Paris flinched. “Holy crap!”

“You been full-named,” Shaula whispered backing off down the hall.

“Coward,” Rory retorted, but let her escape.

 

Paris gathered herself and moved in between the rampaging producer and Rory.

“Don’t even think it blondie,” Pamela said moving her aside. Toe to toe with Rory she took a deep breath.

“Be extremely careful what you say now Pam,” Rory warned in a voice so cold not one of her adoring public would have recognised it.

Pam did. She deflated instantly, running her hand through her hair. “Right,” she nodded. “Sorry. Which way do you want to go?”

Paris watched on fascinated and, frankly, kind of excited by Rory’s sudden steely resolve.

“Don’t say anything,” Rory ordered, casting a glance at Paris. She stumbled over the heat in the returning gaze for a second. “Just, uh, see if you can get everybody to give us some room. It’s …. new.” Pamela nodded and turned to leave. “And Pam?” Rory added in a voice that caused her friend and colleague to stop and turn - almost - against her will, “don’t ever lay hands on her again.”

Pamela looked like she was going to be physically sick. She looked at her hands like she wasn’t quite sure what they were doing at the end of her arms then up at Paris. “Dr Geller. My apologies. That was highly inappropriate. It’ll never happen again.”

Paris shrugged. “Things get heated with you showbiz types. No one’s called me ‘blondie’ for a long time. Not since once when Lane…”

“Oh god Lane!” Rory and Pamela both said at once.

Rory and her oldest friend – drummer and feminist icon Lane Kim – had an alternate universe life amongst their fans. Some of Lane’s fans were not going to like this one little bit.

“What’s happening now?” Paris asked. Both women with her were very quiet for a while.

“There’s an intersection of our viewers and Lane’s fans who…” Pamela began.

Paris’ phone vibrated in her pocket. She checked the screen and answered immediately.

“Speak of the devil,” she greeted.

“Hey Geller! I hear you’re making moves on my girl!”

“Funny,” Paris said in a way that made it clear she didn’t think it was funny at all.

“Whoa!” Lane said retreating. “JK man. Is everyone there overreacting?”

“Yes,” Paris confirmed.

“Ugh. Television people.”

“Yes,” Paris agreed.

“She’s right there with you then?” Lane asked perceptively.

“Yep.”

“I wish I could tell you the publicity wasn’t going to be awful, Geller. But she’s worth it, right? I mean I’m assuming by her face tonight and the hand holding that you’re a thing.”

“100%.”

“Zack! I owe you a pizza! They are a thing.” Lane yelled. “OK Geller. You know the drill. Not one hair of her head.”

“Understood.”

“Did Lorelai already know?”

“Yep.”

“Well at least that’s one thing! Is she squinting her eyes at you now?”

“Yep.”

“Call me if you guys need anything.”

“Thanks, Lane. Thanks for calling.”

“You bet. I’m sorry for what my fangirls may say about you.”

“Will it be worse than some of the things you’ve called me?”

“Hah! No. Keep your powder dry! Tell her to call me.”

“Bye,” Paris said into dead air. “Lane,” she explained to inquisitive eyes.

“I heard. Why did she call you not me?” Rory asked, somehow offended.

“She said to tell you to call her,” Paris shrugged. “And I’m guessing she was checking in with me because I’m more or less the civilian here. Not a showbiz type,” Paris clarified.

Rory took her hand and met her eyes. “Can you please stop calling what I do ‘showbiz’?”

 

**Tuesday**

Rory hadn’t heard from Paris except for a screen cap of a particularly hilarious threat tweet and about 50 eyeroll emojis. Rory was pretty sure that was the only emoji Paris ever used. She had responded simply ‘Sorry’.

Her walk to work _had_ featured extensive conversations with her mother, Lane, and her agent. She hadn’t done a lot of the talking in any of them. She plugged her phone into her portable power pack and walked briskly into 30 Rock. 

She was hiding in her office after three meetings working on her opening when her phone rang. It was Paris so she hit green for go. “Hi!” she said brightly while finishing off a sentence on her laptop. 

“I need you to remind me why I took this job,” Paris hissed faintly.

“Well. You told me it would look good on your resume,but I actually think it’s because you care what happens to girls when a nation’s economy goes down the toilet.” There was no response. “Paris?”

“You know me pretty good, huh?” Paris finally said warmly.

“Well I should. We’re a thing. Lane explained to me today that you confirmed to her we’re a thing. How come you know everybody I love better than I think you do? And why did you need to call me to get me to tell you that? What’s going on over there? Do you …?”

“Gilmore,” Paris cut in fondly. “Shut up.”

“Shutting up.” It was only Tuesday and both of them understood that Paris’ new job and Rory’s perpetual night shift meant their time together during the week was limited. They sat in a warm silence for a moment. “Hey Paris?” Rory said after a while.

“Yeah Rory?”

“Wanna come to my house and do homework? I mean, I know we said …”

“Yes.”

“So, I guess you do?” Rory smiled broadly, a frisson of excitement running through her. Then when there was no immediate response she sighed. “There’s a ‘but’ isn’t there?”

“I have an 11:30 conference call.”

“11- _dark_ -thirty?” Rory heard and disapproved of the whining sound she made.

“When do you get home?”

“10:30,” Rory pouted unable to stop herself.

“Ugh,” Paris let out a frustrated moan.

 

 **Wednesday**  

 _I’m watching_ the message from Paris read.

It’d been sent six hours ago.

 _Hey_ Rory texted back.

_Have you slept?_

_Napped in the van._

_When?_

_Unclear._

_Rory!_

_Paris!_

_Are you safe?_

_Safe as houses._

_Promise me._

Rory started to text back then pressed ‘Call’ instead. “I’m fine. Really,” she said without greeting when Paris accepted the call. “They have us in Kevlar vests.” There was silence on the line. “You don’t know right now whether to be worried or hot and bothered by that do you?”

“I can multi-task,” Paris said finally. “It’s good to hear you. Really you I mean. Obviously I’ve been watching.”

Rory frowned. “Have you been sleeping Geller?”

“Not very well – not very much,” Paris admitted.

“Paris,” Rory sighed gently moving further into the shadows away from the lit-like-day news media mayhem spread out in the street in front of her.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve watched you report from the field for years.”

“It’s different now.”

“Yes.”

A bellow caught Rory’s attention. “Hey! Butch! Get your talking head over here!”

“Who the hell? Why is he calling you ‘Butch’?” Paris seemed outraged.

Rory laughed. “It’s Finn.”

“From the stupid Life and Death Club?”

“The same.”

“But what …?”

“He’s the director of the news division at the LA office. I gotta go. He’s …..here” she finished as Finn grabbed the phone from her hand.

“Are you a source?” he demanded into the phone his Australian accent untinged somehow by years of living in the States.

“This is Paris Geller you idiot. I understand some bigger idiot put you in charge of something. You’d better send her home in one piece you Antipodean cretin.”

“Have we met?” Finn responded, cheekily deadpan.

“Unharmed, dingo spawn.”

“Understood.” He threw the phone back to Rory, eyebrow raised.

“One minute,” Rory promised. “Did you just threaten my boss?”

“Absolutely.”

“I miss you.”

“This has been a very long Wednesday.”

“It’s late. Go to sleep. I’ll call when I get home.”

“You better!”

“Thirty seconds Butch,” Finn bellowed.

“Why does he…”

“Really gotta go,” Rory cut in running to her crew. “Love you,” she said in farewell, toeing her mark in front of the camera and accepting the microphone thrust into her hand. As her director counted her in her eyes widened as she realised what she’d said. She felt her phone vibrate silently in her pocket as she started her summation. “Thanks Candace. Things are slowly quieting here in Las Vegas as the city and the nation comes to grips with what happened here last night. Our hearts are with those who have lost loved ones and those sitting beside beds in hospitals across the city. We are all shocked but, as an American, I’d really like to be able to truthfully say I’m surprised.” Rory turned to survey the scene of carnage behind her then turned back to camera clearly sad and angry. She took a deep breath. “Here’s what we know so far ….”

 

**Thursday**

Rory had just made the last commercial flight out of Las Vegas at midnight. Just before 8am she was following the woman who’d held the iPad with her name on it towards the bright white town car. The network had sent her favourite driver and for that she was grateful. Alyssa had a military background and her presence made Rory feel safe both from the insane rush hour and the prying eyes of the public.

“This is kinda a mess, isn’t it Ma’am?” Alyssa asked once they were on their way.

“Are you ever going to call me Rory?”

“No Ma’am,” Alyssa grinned.

“You mean the shootings?” Alyssa nodded grimly.

“I’d be interested to know what you think Alyssa.”

“Permission to speak freely?”

“Shoot,” Rory said then grimaced. “I mean…”

“That’s part of it right? It’s all over the way we think and speak?” Alyssa paused to think for a moment. “When I joined the military they put us through a lot before they let us fire a gun. You spend weeks carrying it around, cleaning it, learning about how it works. Weeks of intense, every-waking-moment training. You have to pass Phase I of training before they let you pull the trigger.” She shook her head. “I think about all the yahoos out there who buy a weapon at the supermarket and think they know how to use it. Think they understand the destructive power of it. I gotta tell you Ma’am it frightens me where we’re going with this.”

“Me too,” Rory said, her eyes slowly sliding shut as sleep took her. 

“Ma’am,” Alyssa said softly, her hand on Rory’s shoulder.

Rory’s eye’s shot open. “Oh. Hey. We here?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Alyssa confirmed, stepping back to reveal 30 Rock looming behind her.

“Ugh,” Rory groaned. “Thanks. And Alyssa? I heard what you said. Can we talk some more?”

Alyssa nodded, surprised. “I can get you in touch with someone from the V.A.,” she offered.

Rory tilted her head a little to the right, her intense gaze holding the driver’s eyes. “No. If it’s OK with you I’d like to talk it over with someone I know?”

“I’m not going on TV,” Alyssa said firmly.

Rory laughed. “No. Just you and me. I’ve never touched a gun in my life. It seems like I should know more about them.”

Alyssa thought for a moment. “I could take you to the range?”

“The range?”

“Shooting range. You fire at targets?”

“Oh. Let me have your number. I’ll contact you to set it up once I’ve slept.”

Alyssa nodded and smiled. “It isn’t something to mess around with on no sleep.” She handed Rory a card. Rory looked at the Personal Protection Service logo in the card’s corner with surprise. “Trying to get a business going protecting high profile folks,” Alyssa shrugged.

“I bet you’re good at it,” Rory said. “I know you make me feel safe. I’ll make sure people know you’re available.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Alyssa said, a little flustered.

“I’ll call,” Rory assured her. “Thank you,” she mouthed as she answered her phone. “Hey! I’m home!”

Hearing the traffic in the background Paris asked “Where are you?”

“Work,” Rory responded, heading through the heavy revolving door.

“What?”

“I’m at work,” Rory repeated.

“I heard what you said. Why are you work?”

“Are you mad at me for something?” Rory asked truly puzzled.

“I’m not mad at you. I’m exasperated. Why the hell are you at work. You’ve just been working for 24 hours.”

“Yeah, well. There’s a show tonight.”

“This is insane! Are they at least sending you to a counsellor?”

“For what?” Rory asked.

“Don’t play stupid.”

“Paris? I’m OK.”

“How can you be OK? You been in the middle of chaotic carnage for the past day with no sleep.”

“I slept on the plane and in the car. I’m fine. Nothing a hot shower and clean clothes won’t fix. Hey? Also? Sorry if it threw you to have the L-bomb drop last night. I was tired and …”

“Are you taking it back?” Paris sounded choked.

“No. I meant it. Just maybe better timing is all.”

“I’m coming over to your place tonight. Tell the doorman,” Paris said firmly.

“OK,” Rory smiled. She liked it when Paris was peak Paris. “I won’t be awake very long though.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” Paris responded and disconnected the call.

“Well, OK then,” Rory murmured dreamily to herself.

“Hey Fritz,” Rory greeted her doorman an eternity later as he helped her out of the car.

“Welcome home Ms Gilmore,” he greeted warmly. “Dr Geller arrived a few minutes ago.”

“Thanks. Did you take her up?”

“Nope. She was very firm about waiting for you in the lobby.”

“She was, huh?” Rory said looking into the lobby of her building to where Paris sat waiting, stiff impatience written in every fibre. “Did you get the sense that I’m in trouble?”

“She’s just worried about you like the rest of us,” Fritz supplied preceding her to the door. “I gave her some candy,” he added.

Rory beamed at him. “Thanks Fritz. Hey how is Jasmine?” she thought to ask as she went through the door he held.

“She’s just fine, thanks for asking. Back home and causing trouble. Said to thank you for the WNBA gear. You spoil us.”

“Not at all,” Rory returned. “You guys are part of my New York family, you know that!” She suddenly became aware that Paris had stood and was approaching her.

“All the same, we appreciate all you do,” Fritz said fondly. “Have a good night,” he added to both of them before closing the door, leaving them in relative silence.

Paris stopped well inside Rory’s personal space and stared intensely into her eyes. Then she took Rory’s hand and her carry-on and moved towards the elevator.

“Hi,” Rory said leaning into Paris as the doors closed.

“Stay awake until I get you in bed, idiot,” Paris said adoringly with just a little of her old bite.

Rory giggled. Paris rolled her eyes.

Inside the apartment Paris dropped her gym sized duffle beside Rory’s small go-bag and pushed Rory into the bathroom.

Rory went compliantly but then reappeared seconds later. “You’re staying, right?” she asked hopefully.

“Hence the duffel, genius,” came the reply.

“Are you sure you aren’t mad at me?”

“I was frightened, dumbass,” Paris responded, picking up her duffel to head for the other bathroom.

Rory waylaid her. “Whoa there. Frightened of what?”

“Gee I don’t know, Rory. Do you think it was realising my girlfriend runs toward danger as part of her job? That I had to watch her standing in a spotlight right where some dude had hurt or killed 250 people when – and I can’t stress this enough – he hadn’t been found yet?”

Paris’ voice remained low but nevertheless punched Rory right in the feels.

“Hey? I’m right here,” she soothed, reaching out to pull Paris into a tight embrace. “I’m right here and I’m fine.” She kissed the ear she’d just whispered into then leaned back. “You called me your girlfriend. Now I’m going to kiss you ‘til your toes curl,” she stated informatively before doing just that.

Eventually they split off into the bathrooms and met again at the foot of Rory’s bed.

“Let’s get you tucked in,” Paris greeted her softly.

Rory was out like a light before Paris had settled herself beside her.

**Friday (I’m in Love)**

Rory shivered awake as her shirt was hiked up at the back and a warm wet tongue made its way up her spine. Her right eye cracked open. “You’d better not be waking me up this way to say you’re about to leave for work!” she growled turning so quickly that the tongue making its way to her hairline was now at her lips. Continuing her turn she stopped with her body lying fully on a pleased looking Paris and kissed her hard and for long enough to make the hips beneath her twitch.

“Rory?” Paris pleaded, already gone as a girl can get.

“Oh, it’s on!” Rory assured her.

“Thank god,” Paris used the last of her speech capabilities to gasp.

“Wow,” Rory repeated for the thousandth time as she watched Paris dress. She shook her head to try to clear it of visions of the last hour. “Ugh. Coffee’s ready & there’s toast on the way?” she managed.

Paris moved to her and kissed her slowly. “Don’t you start anything you won’t be around to finish,” Rory warned her.

“I’m sure you could take care of yourself,” Paris mused.

“Come to the kitchen. I don’t trust you in here,” Rory said backing out of her room.

“You aren’t safe in there either!” Paris warned.

“Oh, come on!” Rory admonished. “I have a long, grown-up day to get through and I’m already stumbling over flashbacks!”

“You think you got problems? I’m in talks all day with guys whose government would kill us for what we just did. And all I’m going to be thinking about is you,” she said advancing to grab Rory’s unbuttoned shirt, “inside me”. She kissed her new lover heatedly.

“Paris,” Rory mumbled into her mouth. “We have to stop. We have to function. Away from each other for“ – she checked her watch – “fourteen hours. We’ll have plenty of time later,” she promised. “For every surface you want.”

Paris twitched, her eyes hot. “Right. OK.” She removed her hands from Rory’s pants not really knowing when or how they’d gotten there. “You’re right. It’s just ….” She searched around for the words.

“I know,” Rory said. “You know what though? It’s Friday. And we both have more or less Monday to Friday jobs. So there’s that.”

“Are you saying we can hole up here for forty-eight hours?”

Rory shrugged. “Unless there’s an apocalypse that calls one of us back to work.”

Paris kissed her again. A warm promise of a kiss. “Mmmm,” she purred. “Hey. I’m sorry I freaked out a little last night.”

“It was kind of like old times,” Rory smiled, handing over her coffee. “But with kissing.”


	3. A Lot Can Happen in a New York Minute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rory and Paris find they are deliciously compatible and a whole lot of other things happen.

 

Sweaty and delirious, Rory lay with her arm across her eyes trying to breathe normally.

“My lord!” she finally gasped out causing Paris to stop kissing her stomach and giggle. 

“Have I done you in Gilmore?” she chuckled, pleased with herself.

“I believe you have, Geller,” she confessed moving her fingers through the blonde hair on her stomach. “Is it Sunday?”

“I’m not sure. Should I find a phone?”

“Nope. I’ll do it. When I can move.”

Paris smiled smugly. She liked being good at Rory. She remembered a question from Friday night. “Hey, who’s Jasmine?”

“Ugh?”

“Jasmine. You asked the doorman about Jasmine.”

“Oh. Right. She’s Fritz’s wife.”

“The doorman’s wife?”

“Yep. She’s been sick. When Fritz works nights she sends a little supper for me. She’s a doll.”

“Supper?”

“Yep. Arnold down in 12 makes great desserts and OMG Mrs Yang’s pies! Shaula grocery shops for me.” Rory halted with a frown then grinned. “I’m spoilt!”

“I’ll say. Gilmore have you turned this building into Stars Hollow?” Just then a phone sprang to life with Pink’s Get This Party Started. “Lorelai. Is that yours or mine?”

“Mine. That’s my Mom’s ring tone all right. Wait. Did she set it on your phone too?” Paris nodded and rose to find the unrelenting phone. “When?” Rory asked suspiciously.

“When what?” Paris asked. “Oh. It’s yours,” she added handing Rory her phone.

“Hello Mother of mine!” Rory greeted.

“My, aren’t we chipper?”

“Yes, we are. All the better for hearing you. What’s to report?”

“Nuthin. Did Paris stay? Did she stay over? Oooh! Is she still there?”

“Yep,” Rory confirmed.

“Holy cow! I should let you … get back to it.”

“No, it’s fine. We’re about to get some food. Hey, Jasmine’s feeling better Fritz says.”

“That’s good kid. Hey. Let me talk to Paris.”

“That’s a hard no.”

“Why? I want to hear if she’s chipper too,” Lorelai pouted.

“I don’t think I trust you two together yet. When did you program your ringtone into her phone?" 

“Uh … last weekend. Obviously.”

“There’s something fishy going on,” Rory opined good naturedly as she watched a naked  Paris take a t shirt from her bag and leave the room.

“Fishy babe? Like how?”

“Can’t talk now. I gotta … uh … go! Love you. Say hi to Luke.”

“Well OK. Next time I’ll Facetime huh?" 

“Goodbye Mom,” Rory said firmly as she ended the call on her mother’s delighted laughter. She quickly got out of bed, hit the bathroom and pulled on a pair of track suit pants. “Paris?” she called as she trotted down the hallway.

“Kitchen,” came the answer. Paris stood with the refrigerator door open. Rory came and rested her chin on her shoulder, squeezing Paris tight to her. “Eggs?”

“Sure. We could go to the diner.”

“Leave the apartment?” Paris asked like it was the craziest thing she’d heard. She turned in Rory’s arms. “Hey! You’re half naked!” she squealed delightedly her hands getting busy.

Rory’s thought processes started shutting down. “Wait!” she managed. “I’m so hungry! And coffee!”

Paris halted her explorations with a toe-curling kiss. “OK. Food. Eggs? Pancakes? Bagels?”

“Bagels is the thing I have so let’s start there. You get them in the toaster and I’ll start the coffee.” Paris started to move away but Rory stopped her with another kiss. “I’m so happy you’re great at everything.”

“Except coffee.”

“True. Everyone has something babe!”

“Oh no. Not babe.”

“Sweetie pie honey bun?”

“What’s my name?”

“Paris,” Rory whispered reverently.

**Monday**

“Holy hell Butch. What did you do on the weekend?” Finn bellowed at her from behind her own desk. “Or is it who did you do?” he said more quietly and with great affection.

“You’re in my chair,” she pointed out, not unkindly. “Why are you in my chair?”

“They’ve transferred me here. How’s your lovely mother – I forgot to ask last week. Dreadful manners!”

“She’s great. Happy. With Luke. What happened to Brett?”

“Ah the Flannelled Prince! That does my heart glad. Turns out Brett’s been whipping the old fella out at interns for thirty years. Fifty of them MeTooed him yesterday. He’s gorrrnn, the toxic wanker,” Finn finished with a whistle and a jerk of his thumb.

“Jesus. Who? Oh god not any of my guys?”

“He wouldn’t dare. Those bastards are cowards. Nice as pie to women they know would ruin them if they touched them. Like all bullies,” Finn sneered, uncharacteristically angry. He shook it off. “Anyway Butch. I’m here, you’re queer, let’s get used to it.”

“Are you gonna call me Butch forever?”

“Have we met?” he asked, winking. “I expect you’ll do something else that surprises me and it’ll change. If you ate a lot of hot dogs I’d start calling you Bun, for instance. But back to your weekend. You look like you’ve been comprehensively f….”

“Rory! I didn’t know you were in,” Shaula rushed in handing her a coffee and a folder bursting with paper. She shot a confused look at Finn who was still at Rory’s desk.

“Shaula this is Finn. He’s our new boss.”

“Charmed,” Finn rose and shook Shaula’s hand grinning broadly. “You look after Butch for us, do you? You’re obviously doing a bang-up job. She looks terrific. Though a bit X-rated today somehow don’t you think Shaula?”

“Finn,” Rory warned.

Shaula seemed a bit stunned by Finn’s charm offensive. She parsed over what he’d just said. “Who's Butch?” she asked finally.

“Rory here, of course! Obviously,” he responded gleefully. “And between you and me and the doorstop Shaula I think she’s spent the weekend in bed. Not alone. You and I must solve this mystery! Are you in?”

“It’s Paris,” Rory sighed. “Everybody here already knows.”

“Paris? Geller?” Finn sought clarification. “Who recently called me an Antipodean cretin? That Paris Geller? Yale Geller? Huh! I did not see that one coming! She did threaten me should anything have happened to you in Las Vegas. I suppose that was a clue.”

“Do you need us here for this conversation?” Rory asked.

“No,” Finn said, leaving abruptly.

“Who?” Shaula said moving to watch him saunter down the hall.

“Finn. I don’t even really know if that’s his first or last name. Anyway you heard about Brett? Finn is the new Brett. But without the inappropriate behaviour.”

“And you know him from Yale?”

“Yep. I dated his best friend.”

“Huntzberger?”

“Right,” Rory nodded.

“He’s a little … weird?”

“He’s an Australian,” Rory shrugged.

“I’m not sure that explains it,” Shaula said doubtfully. She shifted her focus to her boss. “Oh. He’s right about you though. There is something X-rated about you today!”

“Oh god,” Rory moaned.

_Finn’s here. Everybody’s teasing me about looking like I spent all weekend having sex._

_What does “Finn’s here” mean? You did._

_He’s replacing Brett the pervert. I know. I’m pretty sure I’m walking funny._

_Wait. Which is the pervert? I am proud of my efforts._

_Brett. Google it. You should be._

_Gotta go. Have a good show. See you soon._

Rory’s sighs gained weight until by mid-afternoon it was affecting her posture. At her desk she was curled over her keyboard, disgusted. As the day wore on the Brett news got worse. The network decided to leave what they would say to each talking head.

“Hey Shaula?” Rory called through her open office door. Shaula’s head appeared instantly, eyebrows raised. “Is Angela in town?”

Shaula smiled. Rory’s mentor brought that out in people. “She’s in makeup. Want me to go see if she’s got a minute?”

“Nope. I could use the walk,” Rory said rising, less weary at the proximity of her long-time idol and now friend. Walking the halls soothed her. As did the sight of Angela grinning as she caught her arrival in the mirror.

“Get over here Gilmore and fill me in on Geller while Jan spakfills my neck!” Angela greeted her. “You have ten minutes. Go!”

Rory blushed. “Oh, that’s going very well, thank you. I need to talk about Brett though?” Angela grimaced but waved her on. “So should I say all the things I’m thinking and feeling or … I don’t know? I can’t believe I didn’t know. I’m … ashamed.”

“Let me ask you – did you see something and not say something? Did you walk away from a situation where he was harassing someone?”

“No! I would never …!” Rory frowned.

“Right. He hid it around you. That’s not on you. You might ask yourself why no one told you though,” Angela added.

Rory flinched. “I’ve been thinking about that. Are people frightened of me?”

Jan couldn’t stop a bark of a laugh escaping.

Angela smiled. “Try again genius.” Rory frowned. “Rory. No one would want you messed up in something like this.”

“Huh?”

“There’s that big IQ!” Angela teased. “Look Honey, everyone knows you would have stormed up there and tore him a new one. He’d have sacked you. Or demoted you to daytime. Especially if you found out about Shaula. Rory!” she yelled after her young friend. “She’ll be back,” she told Jan confidently.

“Did you find…?” Shaula began as her boss stormed into the outer office.

“In here,” Rory said holding her office door. Shaula moved quickly. She could see her beloved overlord shaking. Rory snicked the door shut. “Did he touch you?” Rory ground out between gritted teeth.

Shaula seemed momentarily puzzled. “Oh! No! He whipped it out. I told him I was going to HR and then I went to HR.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it isn’t your job. It’s HR’s job. And you would have torn up there and …”

“That’s what Angela said.”

“Well Angela’s pretty smart.”

“Right. As you were.” She kissed Shaula on the head and headed back to makeup.

“So, what should I say?” she asked again once she arrived back at Angela’s side. She accepted a cookie from Jan.

“Well it seems to me you can talk about disappointment and shame and anger and the camaraderie of women. Because seems to me that’s what just happened in the last few minutes here.”

“Thanks Angela.” She took a bite of the cookie. “OMG these are terrific. Did Dang make these?”

“Yep,” Jan confirmed then smiled as Rory lost herself in the experience.

The sound of a throat clearing from the doorway got all of their attention. “Sorry gals but I need Rory to, you know, do her damn job,” Pam grumped apologetically.

Rory jumped to her feet, gently kissed Angela’s hand, patted Jan on the back, shrugged and followed Pam out and down the hall.

“I love Rory,” Jan sighed.

“So, what do you know about the Geller situation?” Angela asked.

“We don’t gossip about Rory here,” Jan chastised her client primly.

“Goddamn Gilmore. Her and her adorable … everything.”

Pam led Rory into the meeting room. It was time to hash out the run of the show. Everyone looked to Rory.

“OK,” she started. “I’m going to go a few minutes right at the top about Brett. I’m going to work from notes. No one else needs to worry about that. Next though, in the A Block proper – what are our strongest choices?”

It was her favourite time of day – panning the day’s news for gold no one else had gone with. She’d lived her entire adult life in rooms full of smart people and this was certainly that.

When Rory got home, Fritz greeted her with a broad grin. “She let me take her up today,” he said pointing unnecessarily upward. “She looks exhausted. Do you want me to get Morty’s to bring some pizza?”

“You’re a prince, Fritz,” Rory waved. She didn’t realise how excited she was until her hand was on the doorknob and she realised she didn’t need her key. Because someone was already home. Her heart took up an entirely different beat – a change with no notice. “Gees,” she whispered clutching her chest. Just then Paris opened the door to see her grab at her heart and wonder “What the hell?”

Paris grabbed her wrists. “Are you OK?” and there was some real fear there.

Rory smiled, a dopey, smitten smile. “Yeah.” She kissed Paris sweetly. “I’m good. I was just standing here. Realising I didn’t have to unlock the door because …” she stopped and looked into Paris’ eyes that contained a glint of humour. “Do not make fun of me.”

“You were happy I was here,” Paris said with warm wonder.

“No. Well, yes, obviously. But I hadn’t realised how … I hadn’t realised how excited I was to see you and hear about your day and eat the pizza that Fritz is sending, and tell you about Brett and Shaula, and …”

Paris’ eyes narrowed. “Did he do something to Shaula?” she bit out dangerously.

Rory stopped and grinned. “Can I come in because I think I need to kiss you all over yourself and that is not for the hallway.” Paris stepped back. “Shaula is OK. She started the whole thing by going to HR.”

“Good for her!” Paris broke in. “Now about the kissing because unlike you I have had time to marinate in my weekend flashbacks and frankly Gilmore if you don’t get your hands on me soon I think – and I am a doctor remember – I might die.”

Rory obliged with a down and dirty hello that had Paris on the floor behind the couch still twitching as Rory paid the pizza delivery.

**Tuesday**

Paris’ phone buzzed at 4am. A quick waker from her time as an intern she got it before it disturbed Rory. When she finished the call some minutes later she kissed her old friend but new lover awake, combing the hair from her face with her fingers.

“Mmm,” Rory hummed contentedly, pulling her in for another kiss. A moment later “Hey, you have clothes! What’s going on?” Now she was very awake.

“Work called me in,” Paris explained. “I expect you’ll …” Rory’s text alert sounded. “… find out soon enough,” she smiled a crooked smile. “I have to go. I’m not sure when I’ll be back." 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going over there.”

“Over there?” Rory repeated, not understanding.

“They want everybody with any medical training on the ground in Iraq. I have a go-bag at the office. We’ll leave from there as soon as we’re coordinated.”

“Paris, it’s dangerous there!” Rory heard the note of panic in her voice.

“I know, Rory. Try not to be scared. OK? I’ll be with the best people at this in the world. We’re meeting Médicins Sans Frontiéres who are already there. They know what they’re doing too.”

“Paris,” Rory whispered, reaching for Paris and pulling her against her body, feeling their connection from head to toe. Paris kissed her. Hard. “You better come home in one piece and soon mister,” Rory managed as they disengaged.

“You bet,” Paris smiled her cocky smile that would have fooled anyone else. “Don’t say it,” she pleaded when it seemed Rory might address her obvious fears. “Please.”

“You know what?” Rory asked as cheerily as she could. “I’m going to make you a cup of coffee. Hell, maybe I’ll send you off with a thermos. And do you know why?”

“Why?” Paris asked with relief.

“Because I love you. I am over the moon crazy gotta have you now mad about you Paris Geller. We are going to have quite the courtship you and I. Then we’ll sneak off and get married in Mom’s back yard. Later, I mean.”

“When we’ve had enough of the courting?” Paris asked so fondly a tear ran down her cheek.

“Obviously. Because that’s an important step.”

“OK. Let’s have at that coffee then. ‘Cause I have to go. What did your text say?" 

“I haven’t looked. This moment is all about you.” Rory got the coffee started and turned to find Paris right up in her space. “Did you need something besides coffee?”

“Yes,” Paris nodded. “I need to tell you that I love everything about you. And when I get back we are going to have another weekend just like the one we just had except now I know you Gilmore and I’m going to rock your world.” Their kiss was soft and lingering. “Go see your mother this weekend. I’ll email you and call when I can.” Rory poured her coffee and handed it over. “Mmmm. I am going to miss Every. Single. Thing. about you.”

Ten minutes later she was gone. Rory finally walked back to the bedroom to read her text. It was from Finn.

_Something blowing up near Mosul. Standing by. Pack your toothbrush._

The only thing she could think of was Paris.

Called in just two hours later, Rory was soon immersed in research on the history of the region where Iraq, Turkey, and Syria come together. Hours later a text came in from Paris.

_We’ve been told to wait._

_What does that mean?_

_It means we wait._

_MSF are evacuating._

_Yes._

_I love you International Woman of Mystery._

_Idiot._

_Come home and I’ll show you who's an idiot._

_That’s going to be way down the list of the things I’ll want to be shown mister._

_People will think it’s weird if we call each other mister._

_I so don’t care. Better than Babe._

_My mother calls me that._

_What I’m saying! Oh I should call her._

_What is going on with you and my Mom._

_What are you suggesting?!_

_No! UGH! You two seem so close kind of?_

_I’m adorable is why._

_Well I can’t argue with that. Oop Finn’s here gotta go._

_I love how you don’t abbreviate words in texts._

_uv never abbr in yr lyf geller But yr gf has to wrk Finn_

_Take care of her you moron._

When Rory’s on air shift ended she rushed for her phone to find:

_See you later. We are go._

Rory realised how much she was hoping they would change their minds and Paris would be waiting for her at home. Her phone emitted Pink! And she answered immediately. 

“Mom? Hi.”

“How are you doing kid? That Paris huh? She called a while ago. She made Luke cry.”

“Poor Luke.”

“He’s very sensitive.”

“I know.”

“How are you doing kid?”

“Oh,” Rory exhaled roughly.

“Rory? You know Paris can survive anything, right?”

“I forgot,” Rory sniffed.

“Well this isn’t the time to be forgetting she’s invincible.”

“Right.”

“She said you were coming up for the weekend.”

“She is extremely bossy.”

“I’m getting worried you have amnesia. Paris Geller. Bossy. Invincible. Got it?”

“Bossy. Invincible. Hot.”

“There you go.”

“Thanks Mom.”

“Hey! Do you want to ask Finn to come up with you? He and I had some witty banter in a jail once.”

“Oh, I don’t…”

“Whatever you think.”

“I’ll ask.”

“OK.”

“I’m surrounded by bossy women. Why is that?”

“That’s an interesting question to pursue, Babe. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Hey Mom? Thanks.”

“I’m always here kid.”

Rory sighed and checked the time. Paris would be half way there. “This is just going to be shit,” she said to the empty room.


	4. Home to Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rory and Finn go to Stars Hollow in the hope that it will distract Rory from Paris' absence.

 It was late and very dark but Rory knew the way from her house to her mother’s better than she knew anything. Finn sat in the passenger seat relaxed in a way a lot of men never are when women are driving. Most of the best things about Finn seemed to come naturally to him. He’d always been a warm man and he hadn’t lost much of his devilry. Rory found herself liking him a lot. She was nervous when she passed on her mother’s invitation but Finn lit up with obvious delight.

“Your mother chastising me is an extremely fond memory,” he’d said smiling broadly. “I’d love to.”

And here they were driving through the night in comfortable silence. Rory yawned. 

“Stay awake there, Butch,” Finn warned. “Network can’t afford to lose us both.”

“Why do you call me Butch? I mean I’m not offended and it’s growing on me oddly but I’m also clearly nowhere near what anyone might call butch.”

“Oh, it’s nothing to do with sexuality, Butch! Well maybe in the sense that I appreciate a young Newman and Redford,” he conceded. “There’s this bit in Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid where Sundance says ‘You just keep thinkin' Butch. That's what you're good at.’ And it’s always made me think of you. Besides I can’t call you Ace because that was Huntzberger’s thing and we don’t need that in our relationship do we Butch?”

“I guess not. I’m glad you’re here, Finn.”

“In this car?”

“Yes, but also here in the broader sense.”

“That’s nice.”

“Do you still hang out with Logan?”

“Nooooooooo.”

“Something happen?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry. Being nosy. Occupational hazard.”

“It’s OK. You know how he was the perfect balance of privileged dick and charmer?” Rory winced and nodded. “Well the balance is gone. Now he’s just a dick.”

“Do you miss him?”

“I do. And I resent him for it.”

“I hear you sister. I was like that for a long time.”

“Why did it stop?”

“The right girl came along.”

“I love being a bi-sexual don’t you?”

“I do. Otherwise I might have missed Paris.”

They are both quiet.

“Did you hear from her today?” he asked gently.

“No.”

“You know, she’s never been anything but scathing to me but in the last ten days she’s entrusted you into my care twice.”

“Entrusted me into your care?”

“Well. More threatened me if I let anything happen to you if you’re going to ruin a good story with a demand for accuracy.”

“That’s my girl,” Rory said, horrified to feel a tear slide down her face.

Finn reached over and wiped it away. “Does she feel this way about you?”

“No. I don’t know? Yes. Yeah I think she does.”

“Good. I tried to sleep with her once.”

“I did not know that.”

“I was beneath her contempt of course.”

“We’ve all been there!”

“How did you two … become this?” Finn asked doing a conjuring act with his hands.

“My mother.”

“Ah! The Goddess of Stars Hollow! I might have known.”

Rory looked over at him for a moment. “My mother has had an effect on more people than I ever imagined.”

“Did she throw you together dramatically and was there swooning?”

“The swooning came later. She did throw us together though. She and Luke came like thieves in the night and took me away to Stars Hollow. Unbeknownst to me she also invited Paris for the weekend. Here we are,” Rory said indicating the Stars Hollow sign.

“You know, this is the first time I’ve been here sober,” Finn mused.

“I hope you don’t come to regret it,” Rory teased as she pulled into the driveway. “There she is!” she warned sighting Lorelai barrelling down on them.

When Finn looked up Lorelai’s face was smashed against his window. He squealed and clutched at his chest. Lorelai’s laughter leaked into the closed car then flooded in as she yanked his door open.

“Finn you old dingo,” she said in what Finn guessed was supposed to be some kind of an Australian accent. “How’s the barbie Crocodile Dundee Kylie Minogue Nicole Kidman Robert Taylor Boomerang mate!”

“Lady Gaga Lala Land Madonna fidget spinner,” Finn grinned shaking her hand.

“Rude!” Lorelai responded. “I’m so surprised you’ve gotten this far unharmed!”

“Mom!”

“No Butch, that’s fair enough. Me too,” he said getting their bags out of the back seat.

“He’s still calling you Butch?” Lorelai asked eyebrows raised.

“It’s about Butch Cassidy and being a thinker,” Rory vaguely gestured. “Not me being with Paris. Oh. I think maybe he was teasing me. It’s very hard to tell.”

“Uhuh. You hear from her today?” Rory shook her head. “OK well I’m sure the internet gets fritzy there. How is Fritz? And Jasmine?”

“They’re good. She’s back on her feet.”

“I feel like a Sherpa,” Finn complained carrying both their bags up the steps with little effort.

“In what sense?” Lorelai wanted to know.

“It’s not a comparison that can survive any real scrutiny,” Finn shrugged.

“You work in news, huh?” Lorelai shot back.

“Being really good at recognising nonsense is my superpower.”

“Bet ya need to watch it around mirrors?”

“Mom! He’s my boss,” Rory cautioned.

“I’m her boss Jim, not some drunken layabout!”

“A Star Trek reference. Maybe you’re OK, kid.”

Finn grinned at her and was still doing so when Luke appeared. “Why’s he lookin’ at her like that?” he asked Rory who shrugged. “It’s creepy. Everybody inside. There’s hot chocolate.”

The next day after second breakfast Rory took Finn for a walk around town. She couldn’t help but think about that day only a couple of weeks ago when she’d done the same with Paris.

“People are looking at me funny Butch.”

“Well, sure.”

“What does that mean?”

“Two weeks ago I was walking around town with Paris.”

“I’m not following,” Finn frowned.

“They see me stepping out with Paris. They know Paris is away. Now here I am with you.”

“They think you’re stepping out on Geller with me?” Rory shrugged.

“It is what it is. Stars Hollow, man. They are literal AF.”

Finn halted and looked around nervously. He felt his hands. “Phew. Still corporeal!”

“What are we talking about now?”

“I’d have thought even alluding to the F-bomb in this hallowed space might suck us into another dimension.”

“Oh. Only if Babette does an incantation.”

“Babette who lives next door to your mother?”

“The same.”

“Huh. She doesn’t look like a witch.”

“We see what Babette wants us to see,” Rory shrugged again, grimly straight-faced.

“You are freaking me out Gilmore!”

“Rory!” a voice bellowed from down the street making Finn flinch. “Is it time?”

“I don’t think so Kirk!” Rory yelled back.

“OK!” the thin man responded with a salute. He turned and walked away.

“What …?” Finn started.

“You aren’t the only eccentric guy I know, Finn.”

“He seems like he might be next level.”

“In almost every way,” Rory nodded. “Want to go back to the house and watch news and eat everything Luke cooks?”

“Lead the way!”

Finn was sure he was in a food coma. He could vaguely hear Rory and her mother discussing the pros and cons of fiction and non-fiction television. He couldn’t tell who was on which side or even if it was an argument. In fact, he was pretty sure his most popular anchor was not putting up much of an argument for the content they produced every night from which they both made a pretty fine living. A phone rang.

“Hey!” he heard Rory say somewhere halfway between joy and tears.

He opened his eyes in time to see her leaving the room. He looked towards Lorelai. “Paris?” he asked. She nodded. “Good,” Finn said, relieved.

“Keep this up Buster and I’m going to like you!” Lorelai smiled.

“I wear most people down,” Finn boasted. “Paris asked me to keep an eye on her.”

“She threaten you?”

“Yes.”

Lorelai nodded. “That’s our girl.”

“I’ve only spoken to her on the phone. Recently I mean.”

“She grew up good,” Lorelai said. “Less anger. More compassion. Whole different Rory dynamic. Still terrifyingly smart. You ever see that blonde idiot?”

“No. I expect he’s even exceeded your projections of what an awful man he’d become.”

“I find that hard to believe. Is he worse than his dad?”

“Exponentially. I remember Paris’ parentals being fairly on the nose. Are they in the picture?”

“Yeah but it’s not a pretty one. Hey, you know a lot about the world. What’s Paris in the middle of over there?”

“The older I get the more I understand I know nothing,” Finn admitted. “But that’s lovely of you to say. I do know that relatively speaking, she’s safe. The UN take very good care of their people. It isn’t impossible that something untoward could happen. But it’s a possibility rather than a probability given where she is and the flag she’s there under. Still. She’s extremely brave going.”

“In my experience Paris rarely flinches.” They both turned at Rory’s return. “How is she?”

“OK,” Rory pouted, throwing herself on the couch and resting her head on her mother’s shoulder. “She’ll be away another three and a half weeks.”

“That’s not so long!” her mother said encouragingly.

“Tell you what Butch. I’ll give you a week off when she gets back.”

“Really?” Rory perked up.

“Yep.” Rory threw herself at him to engulf him in a hug. “This isn’t appropriate behaviour, Butch,” he chastised as Luke came in from the kitchen.

“Yeah, well suck it up sister!” Rory teased.

“Now what’s happening?” Luke pleaded with Lorelai. “I honestly thought I’d be asking that less the older she got,” he added wistfully.

 

Considering she was pretty sure she’d be 24/7 miserable until Paris was home, Rory felt pretty good as she waved Luke and her mother farewell.

“I think I’m going to be OK,” she said.

“Good,” Finn responded. “Mission accomplished.”

“Mission? Why do I feel like everyone’s conspiring with my mother?”

“Well, I can only speak for myself but boohoo poor Butch having people conspiring to care for her.” The word conspiring got air quotes.

“Ugh. OK.”

Finn laughed. “Tell me about the office, Butch. What do I need to know? Who should I not offend?”

“Oh, well, …”

Most of the trip home was taken up with terrifying tales of Pam and all the other hot heads at the network and amusing anecdotes about Shaula and all the other adorables. Finn noticed she stuck to her own crew mostly and a couple of the other hosts.

“I’m going to ask you a question you don’t have to answer but I swear to you I will never repeat anything I’ve seen or heard since we left work Friday. I swear it Rory. OK?”

“OK.” Rory could tell this was serious Finn.

“Is James a dick?”

Rory burst out laughing. “What you see is what you get,” she managed.

“So he won’t stop his on the nose posturing even if I beg?”

“I wouldn’t think so.”

“Does he have no compassion?”

“I think he might. Somehow with him it seems to immediately morph into an outrage harpoon though.”

Finn chuckled. “He does have his favourite targets that’s for sure.”

“Actresses love him.”

“Really? Who knew there was a market for middle aged men who look like Sam The Eagle?”

“Oh my god. He does!” Rory cried. “This is not right. We shouldn’t …” Rory stopped as her phone lit up and vibrated.

Finn looked down and saw Paris’ name on the screen. “I’ll get it. You pull over so I can give you some privacy.” Rory did so listening to Finn greet Paris then agree to something. She was surprised when he put it on speaker and made no move to leave the car.

“Rory?” Paris’ voice seemed tortuously close.

“Hi!” Rory said softly. “I wasn’t expecting …”

“Rory you have to listen,” her voice was firm. “They’re evacuating us. We have word this camp is to be attacked. We don’t know when but we’re going to run. Communication will be difficult. So don’t worry OK? These guys do this all the time.”

“Where are you going?”

“I can’t say,” Rory could hear voices in the background, one of them called Paris’ name. “Look I have to go. They’re saying the insurgents are coming now. You know I love you, right?”

Rory was still and pale.

“She knows,” Finn said kindly. “Paris, I’ll look after her. Don’t worry.” He took Rory’s hand as a loud roar came through the phone.

“Paris!” Rory screamed.

“I’m still here,” Paris’ voice was deathly calm. “I’ll see you soon. You keep yourself together mister.”

“OK,” Rory managed. “I love you too, you know?”

“You bet,” Paris’ voice had changed. It was clear she was running but reluctant to cut the line. “I’m going to turn the phone off now. I’ll call as soon as we’re …. As soon as I can.” 

The call ended. Rory reached out to the phone then withdrew her hand.

“Come on,” Finn said getting out of the car. “I’ll drive the rest of the way.

Rory didn’t argue. Numb all over she moved across into the passenger seat.


	5. Waiting and Hoping and Wishing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at the happy ending.  
> Thanks for the kudos and the reading eyeballs.  
> I'm going to try another fandom next but I dig these two so maybe we'll return later.

Rory sat in an arm chair clutching her phone and staring at nothing while Finn enlisted anyone he could find to start sifting through social media and messaging contacts. They’d gone to work where they could get expert help and where they both felt more in control. It had been twelve hours since the call from Paris the afternoon before.

There had been a lot of rumour and some hopeful threads that petered out. They were both exhausted. Lorelai and Luke had arrived, but Finn had packed them off to Rory’s three hours ago. Another message came to Finn’s phone. He began to read it lethargically then sat bolt upright.

“We’ve got them! Rory!”

“Where?” Rory stood but then realised there was nowhere to go.

“They’re at a hospital in a place called Silopi in Turkey.”

“Are we sure?”

“Yes.”

“Is she …?”

“No casualties but some injured, they’re saying.”

Rory’s phone rang – an unknown number. “Paris?” she answered hopefully.

“I’m sorry. I know you’ve been worried. My phone got … never mind. They’re taking us to Athens then flying us home. I’ll see you tomorrow. … Rory?”

“I’m here! I’m uh … god I need to touch you.”

“Back at you. Listen I have to go, uh, let them look me over. So I’ll see you soon, OK?”

“I’ll wait for you at home. I have the week off.”

“I’ll get them to bring me right to you. It’s great to hear your voice.”

“Paris are you OK?”

“I’m fine. I need a long, hot shower and a lot of sleep. And you. I have to go. I’m sorry.”

“No, go. I’ll see you soon,” Rory signed off. “Jesus that was the worst night of my life.” She looked over at Finn who was grinning. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Let’s get you home.”

“Yep. I’ll text Mom.”

The next word was a text around 9am.

_Getting ready to board. Arrive JFK 9:20pm._

Rory finally fell asleep. Luke spent all day cooking and stocking up the fridge and freezer. Lorelai watched him adoringly.

“You know,” Luke said as he finished cleaning the last of the dishes, “I was always a little afraid of Paris.”

“Well, yeah!” Lorelai snorted. “She’s awesome now though. I hope she’s OK.”

“I’m pretty sure a week with Rory could fix anything,” Luke smiled.

“She’s always been a magical child.”

“Yes, she has. Do you think we should call Paris’ mother?”

“No.”

“OK.”

“Paris can tell her when she’s ready.”

“You don’t think she’ll see it on the news?”  
“I don’t think she’s big on current affairs. More likely someone at a soiree will mention it in passing and she’ll find out that way.  Next month.”

“I hope the girls come up home for a couple days.”

“Me too. You are a very sweet man.”

“I am. And I am also done here. So go say goodbye to that beautiful daughter of yours and let’s hit the road.”

“Maybe we should stay until …”

“Go. They will not want us around,” Luke assured her shooing her off in the direction of Rory’s room.

Rory woke as the sun was setting. She had a vague memory of her mother saying goodbye. Hours yet until Paris returned. No messages. She texted Finn. 

_Just woke up. Is Candy OK with the show?_

_Who dis?_

_Just tell me if everything is OK._

_Go to the gym or something._

_Seriously!_

_Go away._

She tried Shaula.

_Everything OK there?_

_Who dis?_

_Shaula!_

_No this Shaula. Who dis?_

_Finn have you got Shaula’s phone._

_Finn who?_

She tried Pam.

_How’s it all going there?_

_Who dis?_

Rory gave up and called. “Pam dammit. Just tell me Candy’s OK!”

“Candy’s OK,” Pam said.

“Thank you. Have a good show,” Rory said before disconnecting. “Geez.”

 

She changed her sheets, did a load of washing and had something to eat. Still not even 7 o’clock. She slunk off to the gym for an hour, showered, and turned on the television to watch Tom’s show. Usually fascinated by how his mind worked tonight she couldn’t concentrate. She called her mother.

“Hey, I think I’ll see if Paris wants to come up there for a couple days. OK?”

“Oh, we were hoping you would! We both kind of need to see her for ourselves.”

“You guys are great!”

“So is she.”

“Word.”

“What ya doin’?”

“UGH! Waiting.”

“Not long now. Answer some emails or something. What do you TV types do to while away the hours?”

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Roy asked, ignoring her mother blithely.

“Anything kid, you know that.”

“Have you secretly kept in touch with Paris since Yale?”

“I wouldn’t call it secretly, honey.”

“Aha! So! Finn’s right! You have been conspiring to make me happy.”

“That boy is so much smarter than he looks!” Lorelai conceded.

“Thank you. I love her you know.”

“I do know.”

“She loves me.”

“I know that too.”

“So how often do you two do whatever it is you do?” Rory asked curiously.

“That’s something you can discuss with Paris. Then she’ll tell me what I can disclose.”

“So, she’s the boss of you?”

“Who is she not?” her mother countered good-naturedly.

“Me. She’s not the boss of me.”

“I think it’s just so much fun you haven’t noticed, honey. Don’t worry. She’s very benevolent. I’m thinking of getting another dog.”

“Really? What kind?”

“You know. One who’ll loll around the house and get under our feet at the inn.”

“Is Luke on board?”

“Sure.”

“Haven’t told him?”

“Maybe not. So, should I watch Candy tonight?”

“Oh who knows? They won’t tell me anything.”

“That’s because you are on vacation kiddo.”

“I know. But it’s still The My-Actual-Name Show. Don’t I gotta right?”

“Sure. Sure ya do Bugsy! That gal wit de gams don’t got so much moxy as you!”

“She does have gams doesn’t she? Wait that’s legs right?”

“We need to get you up to speed on 1930s gangster talk.”

“OK. Thanks for keeping me distracted.”

“Any time. She’s landing soon right?”

“Yeah,” Rory sighed.

“You got it bad, kid.”

“I do.”

“Give her a hug from us.”

“Yep. Night mother of mine.”

“Love ya kid.”

It would likely be after 10:30 before Paris got to the apartment. Rory was kicking herself for not meeting the plane. She put her gym clothes in the washer with anything else she could find that needed washing, messed around on her phone for a while, put the clothes in the dryer and finally turned on the TV in time to watch how Candy was doing. As usual she was doing fine. Rory smiled at the way her friend peered over her glasses at the camera.

Rory was awoken by a knock on her door. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep. The Bald Eagle was on the TV. She flicked it off as she ran to open the door. Paris stood exhausted in the hall, a small, cheap back pack in her hand. Rory looked her over. She realised that she had neither said anything nor stepped aside to let Paris in. She took her hand and drew her inside locking out the world. Something about the way Paris was moving wasn’t right.

“Come,” Rory said, “and tell me what hurts.” She drew Paris away into her room. “Let’s have a shower and let me take a look at the damage, huh?”

Paris nodded. She pulled on Rory’s hand. “Hey?” she said. “Hi.” She reached up slowly and pulled Rory into a kiss. It was a kiss that had a lot to say so it went on for a while. “It’s mostly bruises and cuts. There was a … well maybe later? I really need to be in bed with you. But I do need a shower.”

“OK. Let’s go. I have some jammies and a towel for you in here that are just out of the dryer. Toasty warm.”

“Perfect,” Paris smiled. “Help me get undressed, would you? I’m kind of stiff.”

“My very favourite thing,” Rory sighed. She realised how near Paris was to falling asleep on her feet. “Hey! Luke was here and he filled the refrigerator with food that we just have to warm up. Also? My mother says I have to grill you about your relationship with her but that can wait.”

Paris smiled. “Lorelai is great.”

“No argument here,” Rory said, getting the last layer of clothes off of Paris. She’d tried not to flinch when she saw the extent of the bruising. “Come on,” she said. “That water’s nice and warm.”

“OK,” Paris responded so meekly Rory was immediately worried.

“Tell me what I need to do to take care of you?”

“I just need to sleep. They’re pretty sure I wasn’t concussed. Otherwise they wouldn’t have let me fly. There’s some goop in my bag that the guys in Silopi swore would help the bruises heal.”

“OK. Let’s get you rinsed off and into those PJs and into my bed.”

“Plan,” Paris responded.

Rory tucked Paris in and although she stayed awake enough to roll carefully to put her head on Rory’s chest, that was her last conscious effort. Rory pulled the blanket up around them and watched Paris sleep until she, too, nodded off.

Paris slept for almost two days. Rory fed her when she woke and held her while she slept. She applied the goop while Paris made tired attempts at lewd jokes that made Rory blush. By Wednesday night she was able to stay awake to eat dinner and watch some TV.

“It’s weird watching The Rory Gilmore Show with Rory Gilmore,” Paris commented as Rory turned off the TV. “Candy does OK. When does she sleep?”

Rory shrugged. “I honestly don’t know how they do it. She’s still doing her own show. Someone else will take over tomorrow. How are you feeling?”

“Still fine,” Paris responded rolling her eyes. “Stiff and sore.”

“Are you … do you need to see someone about what you went through?”

Paris nodded. “The UN has people.”

“Of course,” Rory nodded. “Mom and Luke asked if you’d like to …”

“Yes!” Paris jumped in.

“Well, OK. I’ll let them know we’ll be there tomorrow.”

Lorelai was coming down the porch steps before the engine was off. She pulled Paris’ door open and knelt beside the car, her hand on Paris’ knee, searching her eyes. A tear rolled down Paris’ cheek.

 “Come on, honey,” Lorelai said, unbuckling her seat belt and helping Paris out of the car. Paris threw her arms around Lorelai and sobbed silently. Lorelai kissed her head. “Let’s get inside,” she said very gently. She met Rory’s concerned gaze over the car and smiled. “Let me mother you a little. We were so worried!”

Rory blinked. Sometimes she forgot that Paris didn’t have a functioning mother. This was definitely something she was happy to share. Feeling hopeful and light she collected their bag and followed her girlfriend and her mother inside.

Paris and Lorelai were already on the couch talking when Rory got there. She smiled at them both and put the bag in her room. In the kitchen she poured coffee all the while listening to the conversation going on without her in the living room. She thought that maybe she should feel left out or jealous that Paris chose not to confide in her but rather in her mother but she did not. She felt relieved that Paris was finally talking about her ordeal. Rory set the coffees down and sat quietly in a chair across from the others. She heard about the explosion that had blown Paris off her feet and into the side of one of the trucks; the journey to the Turkish border that took five times longer than it should have as they tried to keep out of sight; meeting the UN officials once they passed into Turkey. The hospital. The flight to Athens. The kindness of the airline staff. Paris’ relief at being home, with Rory, here in Stars Hollow. Lorelai kissed her head again.

“Rory, you want to text Luke and let him know you’re here?” Lorelai asked.

“You know, I think I’ll go over there and get us some lunch,” Rory responded. “You guys get comfy and I’ll be back in a jiffy.” She bent to give Paris a kiss goodbye and found her shirt in a tight grip. “I’ll be twenty minutes I promise,” she said. “Mom will be right there the whole time. Right?”

“Not moving,” Lorelai concurred.

Paris let go. “Donuts?” she asked in a wavering voice.

“Totally,” Rory nodded and was rewarded with two smiles.

 

“How is she?” Luke asked as soon as he saw Rory come in the diner.

“She’s OK. She’s crying on Mom.”

“Lorelai’s good at that,” Luke nodded.

“Yes, she is.”

“Three Gilmores to go quick as you can!” he called back into the kitchen. “I like the head kissing particularly,” he continued as he started filling a bag with donuts.

“Me too,” Rory nodded. “I forget Paris doesn’t really have a Mom sometimes.”

“You OK sharing yours?”

“I was just thinking about how OK I was about it. I’d give her anything,” she added and it came out a little more fervently than she meant it to.

“I hear that,” Luke smiled.

“I know you do. Hey Luke?”

“Yuh?”

“Have you ever minded that I’ve never called you ‘Dad’?”

“You have a dad,” Luke shrugged unconcerned. “And I really like the way you say ‘Luke’. It  kind of implies a lot.”

“I’m glad you hear that,” Rory said smiling in that way that lights a room. “I better get back. I’m not sure I can handle both of them hungry at the same time yet.”

The burgers, fries, and milkshakes arrived and Luke packed them. “Enjoy,” he said. “I’ll be home soon. Tell Paris hi from me.”

That night, lying in Rory’s room not far from where they had argued about homework and boys and what their relationship was all those years ago, Rory asked “Hey Paris? What do you want to do now? Us I mean?”

Paris opened one eye. “Now that we’ve had sex, said I love you, and been through a traumatic, life threatening situation?” Rory nodded. Paris thought for a moment. “Let’s date,” she said. “I want dinners and lunches and movies and plays and,” she tilted her head as though surprised, “and flowers. Huh. I like getting flowers. But no smelly ones. Hay fever. How about you?”

“Sounds good. Like going steady?”

“Yeah. So no more stepping out around town with strange men, mister.”

Rory laughed. “You heard about that?”

“Luke filled me in while we were cooking.”

“Poor Finn.”

“I think if this all goes all right – the going steady I mean – I’m going to marry you, Rory Gilmore.”

“I think you’ll make an excellent Gilmore,” Rory said with certainty.

“Don’t make me cry twice in one day,” Paris warned.

“You’re already part of the family. They love you,” she said indicating the direction of Luke and Lorelai’s room.

“Goddammit!” Paris cried and punched her.

“Ow!” Rory complained and then gently collected Paris tears on her tongue.

 

THE END 

**Author's Note:**

> You are very kind readers. Thanks.


End file.
